


Always

by Cakepopple



Series: The Criminal Witch and His Knight of a Husband [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Kingdom, Angst, Archer Hunk (Voltron), Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Knight Keith (Voltron), Knight Shiro (Voltron), M/M, Mage Lance (Voltron), Mage Pidge | Katie Holt, Married Couple, Married Klance, Protective Keith (Voltron), Queen Allura (Voltron), Witch Lance (Voltron), klance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-27 23:08:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20415817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cakepopple/pseuds/Cakepopple
Summary: Lance is off on a supply run, completely alone, and Keith drives himself crazy with worry. It’s the dead of winter, Keith has no means of communicating with his husband, and after the recent attacks on Altea, he’s already on edge. The separation isn’t helping.When Lance comes home, Keith doesn't so much as breathe until he’s assured that his husband is alright.





	Always

**Author's Note:**

> A request I got on [my tumblr](https://cakepopple.tumblr.com/) from [Renncandraw](https://renncandraw.tumblr.com/)! They made some [rlly lit art](https://renncandraw.tumblr.com/post/186824038303/what-did-you-say-about-my-husband-for) for this series, check it out! :-)
> 
> There might be a part two, but we'll see!!

Queen Allura places a hand on either side of her waist, stopping in front of the table her head knight slumps against. “Keith,” she says, tone resolute. No response. Keith’s fingers drum against the tabletop and his chin rests atop his arm. His eyes are locked onto his shifting fingertips, as though he is merely an observer to his own actions. Allura wrinkles her nose, leaning closer and slapping her palms on the table. “Keith!” 

He jumps, fingers coming to a sudden stop. After apologizing, they start up again. Faster now. “What were you saying?” Though he is speaking to the queen, his voice is disinterested, and it becomes clear his mind is elsewhere. Especially when his eyes drift to a window at the edge of the room. Pidge steps between him and the light source, and only then does Keith look to Allura. His face is scrunched as though he tastes something bitter.

Plopping down in a chair across from Keith, Allura asks, “What’s got you so on edge?” Keith shrugs, eyes slipping back to his tapping fingers. The taps become more firm, more deliberate, and his eyes narrow at the motions. “Keith,” she hisses. 

Hunk joins the conversation from where he’s draping himself across the floor. “Lance is out of town,” he supplies. Allura raises an eyebrow and Keith shrugs, lifting a palm to his face. He rests his cheek against it, lips curled downward in a scowl. “Keith’s probably worried.” The knight sinks further in on himself, like he wants his shoulders to rise up around his head and consume him. 

“Shut up,” he mumbles, too soft for any malice to ride upon his words. “He’s just a town over to get some dumb, fancy fabrics a customer requested. It’s only been a day and he’ll be back tonight. He’ll be fine.” Loudly, he sniffs, drags his hand down his face, and steps off his stool. He joins Hunk on the ground, as close to the door as he can be safely, in case it opens. In case Lance returns. When Pidge moves, he tugs an arm over his eyes to block the sunlight streaming in from the window she’d previously been blocking. A groan is heavy on the top of his throat.

“Or he’s being mugged on the walk back,” she muses, a lopsided shrug stealing her shoulders. Keith easily takes the bait. He sits up, eyes wide and cheeks hot with concern. His hands tangle in his lap, his foot starts to jump and jitter. Behind him, Hunk sits up, too, giving Pidge a cold look. Speaking of cold, “He could be buried in the snow, ya know. Happens all the time.” Slyly, she leans forward and smiles. “Maybe he’s already dead!” 

“Pidge!” 

She laughs and sticks her tongue out at Hunk’s cry. And then she stalks away, takes the stool Keith had abandoned, and holds a hand out to thumb wrestle with Allura. Her role in the conversation is effectively over. 

“I’m sure Lance is fine,” Hunk breathes, dropping a hand onto Keith’s shoulder. “He’s not even later than he said he’d be; there’s no reason to worry yet, man.” Hunk is right. As usual. He’s _ always _ right, and Keith is not in the mood for it. He wants to brood. He’s not in a good place, mentally. It’s only been a month or two since Lotor took Lance, and Keith hadn’t been, by any means, ready to let Lance out of his sight two days ago, when Lance had mentioned a supply run. But it isn’t as though Keith would have stopped him from doing his job. It isn’t his place.

Yet, as he stares at the clock on the wall, he wonders more and more if he should have at least gone too. He’s becoming more aware of how Lance _ said _ he would be back by dinner tonight. Because it is four in the afternoon. He figures it’s pretty late in the day to have gotten no news of Lance whatsoever; Keith’s giving him an hour before he puts a search party together. 

Huffing, Keith pulls at the roots of his hair. 

A moment later, the door opens. He stands up with a grin wide along his face, but when he sees who’s at the door, it shrivels. He leans on the table, all the excitement sucked from his posture. Just Shiro, carrying a stack of papers and frowning at the loss of enthusiasm. “Good to see you, too, Keith,” he grumbles, tossing what was in his arms onto the table. Keith flips him off. “I had some good news, perhaps about Lance, but,” he hums as Keith’s smile blooms again, eyes bright and wrinkled at the corners, “maybe you’re too grumpy to hear.” The head knight’s mouth flops open, an excited noise rising from his lungs. Shiro turns to Allura and cuts off anything Keith might have to say. A sly grin is vivid on his cheeks. “Now, I got all the documents Iago signed to outlaw magic, so we can get to reversing them...”

Keith furrows his brows, eyes happy, unable to pass as a glare. “Shiro! Gimme the news, dammit!” Much to his dismay, his voice is entirely a whine, and Shiro’s lips buzz in a chuckle at that. The rest of the room follows his example, laughing as they gather around the table and the papers scattered upon it. Allura is the first to stop and, nodding at Keith, she waves a hand. “Are you—wait, I can go? I don’t have to be here for this?” She shrugs. And then everyone’s eyes are off Keith, a dutiful example of _ I’m choosing not to see your negligence, _so he shouts a word of gratitude and sprints for the door. 

Excitement is something hot and tangible in his stomach, thick and steamy in his chest, and though he never celebrated his birthday as a child, Keith thinks it would have felt something like this. His cheeks are numb with a growing smile as he approaches where he knows the stables are, where he knows Lance will be. And then he turns a corner, and his feet almost fly out from under him when the stone path ends and the dirt of the stables begins. He presses a palm to the wall, both to keep himself from slipping and to catch his breath.

Not that it matters. Lance is there to steal it again, anyway. 

He’s there, hair sloppy and shirt crooked, as he wrestles with a saddle that’s knotted too tightly around the horse he’d borrowed from the castle. Keith sees him in profile, appreciating the slope of his nose and the length of his lashes, the golden glow of them in the sunset. Maybe it’s only the sweet swell of Lance’s cheeks as he smiles, but the light seems gentle, like candlelight. A brushstroke of peach is on the tip of his nose, a twinkle of starlight yellow sits in either eye. He’s got a pucker to his lips, and the sunlight flickers against it as he moves and light catches his features in different ways. All his body is traced in orange, like the sun dribbles down his back and pools at his ankles. Like the light scattered on the ground is there because of him. Like the only reason the sun exists is to make him shine.

Lance’s shadow is long, slender, and elegant on the dirt, but it’s missing the personality portrayed on Lance’s features. His tongue pokes past his lips in concentration, his cheeks puff when his horse shuffles and he loses his hold on the knot. He’s pouting, frustrated, but he whispers a gentle word or two in the animal’s direction, anyway. Love swells in Keith’s chest.

Crossing the distance between them in a rush, he wraps his arms around Lance’s middle, nose tucking into his nape. He kisses there a couple times. “You’re home,” he murmurs, and he grins when his husband shivers under his voice. His arms tighten, and he breathes deep and slow. Lance doesn’t smell like he usually does; he smells of the places he’s been and of the leather of his saddle. Keith kisses farther around his neck, then just below Lance’s ear, where he still smells right. Briefly, he spares the breath for, “Was worried,” before continuing to trace his lips over his husband’s shoulders. 

“Why’s that?” Lance spins in Keith’s arms, looking as thrilled to see Keith as Keith is thrilled to see him. His eyes aren’t catching the light anymore, but Keith can’t seem to keep his eyes from being caught within them, regardless. Seems Lance traded one trapped thing in favor of ensnaring another. Mindlessly, Keith trails a hand up to Lance’s cheekbone. His husband’s eyelashes drift downward at the contact, a rumble sounding in his chest. At that, there’s a thrumming in Keith’s chest, too. He smiles tenderly, pitches forward, and places his lips between Lance’s brows. “Keith,” Lance hums. Around his spine, on his shoulder blades, Keith feels Lance’s hands settle into place. His heart whirs. 

His hands trickle down Lance’s body, as he says, “Dunno. Missed you, though. Shoulda gone with you.” The last part’s a grumbled bit of hindsight that makes Lance ring with laughter. When Keith’s hands reach Lance’s thighs, he stops moving them, instead taking hold and tugging Lance up. Positively bubbling, his husband locks ankles behind his waist, and his hands loop through Keith’s hair. He’s smiling down at Keith, sunlight back to dripping liquid heat around his silhouette, and he looks angelic. Heavenly, in the kind of way that just has to be tasted. Batting his lashes once, Lance angles his neck to slot his lips against Keith’s. In answer, Keith flexes his fingers around his husband’s thighs. 

Their kiss is all smooth caresses and swipes of tongue. “Missed you too,” Lance says as he pulls away. Keith chases him. “Aren’t you just insatiable,” he giggles, before Keith jostles him briskly, which throws their lips back together. Slowly, easily, Keith carries Lance away from the knotted saddle and the troublesome steed, until he’s got his husband’s spine curled against a wall. The fingers in his hair tug, weakly, and he releases Lance’s lips with a pop. It takes a second for his husband to open his eyes again, and Keith makes his question of why Lance asked to pull apart apparent by pursing his lips and raising a brow. Lance shakes his head, simply. “I just wanted to see you. You’re really pretty, you know that? I missed seeing you. Missed your eyes...” With a fingertip, he draws an unassuming line under Keith’s eye. 

Keith’s heart wrenches in the best possible way. He feels, in that instant, like he’ll die if he doesn’t have Lance in his arms, if he can’t kiss his cheeks and neck whenever he wants. Like the only thing keeping his feet on the ground is the weight of his love for Lance pumping in his stomach, in his chest, in his lungs. His fingertips tremble with the joy of it, his eyes start to water. He bows his head, browline tucking against Lance’s collarbones. His husband kisses the crown of his head, then rests his chin over the spot. “Stay with me,” Keith whispers, lips tickling the collar of Lance’s shirt. He feels the skin warm as he speaks.

“Always,” Lance squeezes from his lungs. He sweeps a lock of Keith’s hair behind his ear, then gathers his lips over the same place. Keith shuts his eyes tighter, braces his thumbs more tightly around Lance’s thighs, and grits his teeth so as not to cry. But his fondness for Lance wins in the end, and he can’t help the tears that manage to slip past his defenses. A thumb eases under his chin a moment later, and he lifts his gaze to Lance. Lance. Beautiful, kind, warm, loving Lance, and all his benevolence, and all the grace and bliss his smile brings to Keith’s heart. Lance, who is also crying. “As long as you’ll have me.”

Gaze unwavering, Keith repeats, clarifies, assures, “Always.” 

**Author's Note:**

> please leave comments and kudos!!  
also, my requests are still open, so hit up [my tumblr](https://cakepopple.tumblr.com/) ask box y’all ;)


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